


Honeymoon for Three

by Zephyrfox



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), White Collar
Genre: Alec Trevelyan - Freeform, BAMF!El, Cameos, Case Fic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Heist fic, James Bond - Freeform, Some angst, minor crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Elizabeth Burke was looking forward to visiting Paris with her husband, Peter, and young son, Neal. She wasn't expecting to find her son's namesake there - especially since she thought that Neal Caffrey had died three years before. Still, she finds herself looking forward to the chaos that having Neal Caffrey back in her life will bring.





	Honeymoon for Three

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the cover art [here!](https://leavesdancing.tumblr.com/image/174794344743)

 

“Now remember, he gets tired around three in the afternoon and wants a nap —”

“Mozzie,” Elizabeth Burke tried to interrupt her friend, hiding a smile. It could be difficult to derail him once he got going. All around them, travelers hurried through the busy entrance of the international terminal at JFK Airport, ignoring the little group.

His eyes were wide and anxious behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “He'll fight it, of course, because he's stubborn —”

“Mozzie,” she tried again.

“And —”

“Mozzie, perhaps you should say goodbye to Neal and let Elizabeth and Peter get to their plane.” June Ellington's voice held fond exasperation.

“Thank you, June.” Peter Burke said with a warm smile, as he put his arm around El’s waist. “We do need to get going, Moz.”

Mozzie gaped, seemingly unable to believe they were ignoring his contributions to their son’s well-being, before launching into another tirade. “But he likes his routines. I'm simply reminding Elizabeth —”

“She _is_ his mother, Mozzie,” June said, her voice firm.

“Yes, and I'm well aware of his routines,” El said to her two friends, amused. Eight years ago she wouldn’t have known either of them — Neal Caffrey had been the one to bring them all together. The baby was their only link to him, and this was Moz’s way of coping with separation.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along to take care of him?” Mozzie looked from her to Peter. “You know I’m an excellent nanny.”

Oh. No. That would make for an awkward trip. She shook her head. “It’s our second honeymoon, Moz.”

Mozzie focused back on her. “But a honeymoon with a toddler —”

“We’ll be fine, Mozzie. Thank you.” Peter’s lips twitched, as if he were fighting back a grin.

Mozzie pouted, crossing his arms. “All right, but remember to take him to the Louvre. It's an important part of his art education. And… it's something Neal would have wanted.”

The mention of young Neal’s namesake had a sobering effect on them all. Mozzie ducked his head and slipped one finger behind his glasses to rub at his eyes.

“Yes, Mozzie, we know.” Peter smiled gently, then looked down at Neal. “Say goodbye, son.”

The little boy looked up at Peter with big, blue eyes and nodded solemnly. Then he held out his hand to Mozzie. “G’bye, Unc’ Mozzie.”

Mozzie straightened up and cleared his throat. After a deep breath, he knelt and took Neal’s hand for a firm handshake. “Until we meet again, Neal. Never goodbye.”

Neal looked confused as June swept in and gently urged Mozzie to step back.  She bent to kiss Neal’s cheek. “Have a wonderful time, sweetheart. Be good for your parents.”

Neal looked at June with solemn blue eyes. “Til we meet ‘gain, Gramma June.”

El watched indulgently as Neal's unofficial godparents said goodbye to the baby. Baby. He was a toddler now, just getting over the Terrible Twos. He was growing up so fast, but he would always be her baby.

There had been no question about including June and Mozzie in young Neal’s life. They had been two of the most important people in Neal Caffrey’s life. Familiar pain stabbed her as she thought of him. Losing Neal Caffrey had been one of the most painful things she had experienced, and his loss still hurt, even after three years. Even after —

“El? Are all right? It’s time for us to say goodbye.”

Her eyes flew to Peter, startled. Then, a bit embarrassed at her distraction, she hugged June and whispered goodbye while Mozzie shook hands with Peter. Then they swapped, June embracing Peter and Mozzie hugging El.

June resettled her purse strap over her shoulder. “Now don’t worry about Satchmo. He’ll be fine with staying with me. My granddaughter loves him —”

“Oh! And I’ll come over to keep him company!” Mozzie interrupted June excitedly. “I can bring him some specially formulated dog food to keep him healthy —”

“That’s very good of you, Moz. I’m sure Satchmo will be the healthiest dog around.” Peter glanced at El. “You ready, hon?”

She nodded, and waved to June as she took Neal’s hand. They’d decided to let Neal walk as much as he could while they traveled, and left his stroller with the rest of their checked luggage. Peter picked up their bags and they walked towards the long lines waiting to get through Security.

 

~~~~

 

El craned her head. They still had another switchback to go before they got to the screening area. She’d already had to pick Neal up when he had gotten fussy from the delay. She didn’t blame him. She was considering throwing a tantrum herself.

Fortunately Neal had quieted almost immediately, and now was drowsing on her shoulder. Unfortunately, he was getting heavier every second. The line shuffled forward a few steps, and she got nudged from behind. Again. She huffed in exasperation.

Peter leaned close to her. “You all right?”

She dredged up a smile. “Yeah. Just getting tired. Why can’t you just, I don’t know, flash your badge or something?”

Peter shot her a disappointed look and carefully took Neal, transferring the baby to his own shoulder. “You know I can’t do that, El. I’m not on a case, we’re on vacation.”

She sighed. “I know, you’re right.” She cuddled into Peter’s other side when he pulled her close, closing her eyes when she felt the kiss he pressed to the top of her head. For a moment, the whole world consisted of just the three of them.

Peter nudged her. “We’re moving again, hon.”

She opened her eyes and sighed. He had his hands full with Neal, so she rolled their bags forward. A murmur came from up ahead — another two lanes were opening. Thank fucking God. They’d tried for an early flight so the airport would be less busy, but less busy apparently meant fewer lanes open.

The last distance to the screening lane seemed to go quickly. Peter was still holding Neal, so El bent to pick up their bags and put them on the conveyor belt. When Peter immediately protested, she said, “No, I have this.”

Then they began the dance of slipping off shoes and piling their things onto the conveyor belt beside their bags. She took Neal from Peter and went to stand by the scanner. The TSA agent there waved her to the side after eyeing her ticket and ID.

She was met by another TSA agent, this time a woman. The new agent waved a wand over her and Neal, smiled, and let them go through. El waited at the end of the conveyor belt for Peter to join them.

“Now, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” Peter asked as he buckled his belt.

She shook her head, smiling. “No, but it would have been faster if —” She broke into laughter at Peter’s look of exasperation.

“Hon…” Peter began, then chuckled as he realized she was pulling his leg. “Why don’t you go check out the monitors while I get all our bags?”

“All right.” El stretched up to give her husband a quick kiss, and then she headed over to the monitors to double check their flight information. When Peter caught up to her, she turned to him and gratefully handed Neal over. Her shoulder was starting to feel as though it was on fire. “Looks like our flight is on time.”

“Excellent.” Peter arranged Neal on his shoulder, beaming with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “I flagged down one of the airport carts. The driver said he could take us to our gate.”

“Oh, hon. That’s fantastic. Thank you.”

Neal perked up when they reached the cart and demanded his own seat. When they were settled, the driver headed off. The cart’s periodic beeping made Neal laugh.

The little cart seemed to speed through the airport, and got them to their gate just as boarding began. El picked up Neal and prepared to find a seat until their group was called, but Peter stopped her.

“Nope. You’re going the wrong way. They’re calling the first class passengers.”

“What?” She stared, surprised, at Peter.

He put his arm around her. “I wanted this trip to be special, hon.”

El leaned into her husband and cuddled their son closer. “Oh, hon. It already is.”

 

~~~~

 

El looked out the window, staring into the darkness, while Peter slept in the next seat with Neal in his arms. She was looking forward to this trip, but couldn’t help feeling that something — some _one_ — was missing. If only… She snorted, sternly telling herself to stop wishing for the impossible. Her attention was caught by the baby as he began to stir. She reached over her sleeping husband and picked Neal up. “You're getting heavy, kid.”

Neal smiled sleepily at her. She felt a pang in her chest. His smile was so like his namesake's. It was almost odd to realize the baby's eyes were her own blue instead of the older Neal’s.

“Hey, hon.”

She turned her head, meeting Peter’s deep brown eyes. “Hey, hon.”

“Have you slept at all?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. Too keyed up, I guess. I love Paris, and I can’t wait to introduce it to Neal.”

“Even if he’s too young to remember?” Peter asked with a smile.

“You’re never too young for Paris, Peter Burke.”

 

~~~~

 

El loved Paris. She always had. Unfortunately, she didn’t think her boys felt the same way. Neal really was too young to appreciate the sights. He looked curiously around, but he didn't seem to care where he was, as long as he knew she and Peter were around.

They had been in Paris for two days, sleeping out their jet lag and seeing some sights, before they packed up the baby and headed to the Louvre. She pushed Neal’s stroller as they walked towards the museum. Peter put his arm around her waist and she leaned in, enjoying the solid feel of his muscles under his shirt.

A few minutes later they were in the lobby of the museum, ready to start their planned route.

An achingly familiar movement caught her eye. She turned, and caught her breath. Neal Caffrey had just used his characteristic move to don his hat, and his blue eyes, Bambi-wide, were staring back at her. “Hon? Do you see…?”

Peter nodded, looking as shell-shocked as she felt.

Neal murmured softly to the man he was with, and then left him behind to walk over to her and Peter.

Before he could say anything, Peter pulled him into a bear hug. When Peter released him, El quickly stepped forward, blinking back tears. As she hugged him she was careful not to say his name. He wouldn't be using Neal Caffrey anymore.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Neal squeezed her tightly, then dropped a kiss on her cheek. When they let each other go, he knelt in front of the younger Neal. “Hello.”

The baby blinked curiously at the strange man in front of him. “H’lo.” Then he looked up at his parents for reassurance.

“It's all right, son. This is a friend.” Peter smiled warmly at Neal. “We’ve named him Neal.”

Neal looked momentarily surprised before his smile widened. He looked up at her. “He's got your eyes, El.”

“And he's got your smile,” Peter said.

Neal flushed. El thought it was charming. Neal Caffrey rarely blushed at anything.

“Mr. Peterson?” The man Neal had been talking to walked up to them.

Peter mouthed, “Peterson?” to her and she shrugged.

Neal stood up and turned to the other man. “Yes, Williams?”

“Is everything all right?”

Neal smiled, the charming smile that El knew covered whatever his real reaction might be. “I’m canceling the rest of today’s appointments. These are old friends from the States, and I’m going to spend the rest of the day with them.”

Williams studied Peter, El, and young Neal curiously, and then nodded to Neal. “Yes, Mr. Peterson. Would you like me to get your car?”

“There’s no need, Williams. I’ll stay with the Burkes for now.”

“Very well, sir. Call me when you wish me to pick you up.” With another curious look at El and Peter, Williams turned and headed back towards the street.

None of them said anything until Williams was out of sight, hidden by the crowd.

Peter turned to Neal, his cheek twitching in an effort to hide a wide grin. “‘Peterson’?”

Neal ducked his head, and El was treated to a blushing Neal Caffrey for a second time that day.

“Uh, yeah.” Neal's eyes darted between her and Peter. “Elliot Peterson.”

“Oh, that's —”  El couldn't continue. Her throat closed up and her eyes filled with tears.

Neal looked alarmed. He immediately pulled her into his arms. “Oh, El.  I didn't mean to make you cry.”

She sniffled against his shoulder and stepped back, trying to pull herself together. “It's just so sweet.”

The corners of Peter’s brown eyes crinkled up as he watched them. “What are you doing here, Elliot?”

Neal turned to answer, and El was grateful for the reprieve. She pulled out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes.

Her son tugged at her sleeve, trying to get her attention. “Yes, baby, what is it?”

“Are you ‘kay, Mama?”

She scooped him up. “Oh sweetie, I’m _better_ than okay.”

The younger Neal laughed, and El turned her attention back to her other two boys. They were watching her, with identical fond looks. A little embarrassed, she asked Neal sharply, “Did you answer Peter?”

Neal blinked and shook his head. “Not yet, I was waiting for you. I’m here to arrange the donation of a number of pieces to the Louvre.”

He paused, and pulled out the familiar, cocky Neal Caffrey grin. “The Peterson collection has a number of excellent pieces.”

Peter's brows beetled. “Donation? Ne — _Elliot_ —  you're not planning on stealing —?”

Neal's eyes widened, hurt. “Why, Peter, would I ever do such a thing?”

“Yes.” She and Peter spoke at the same time, and glanced at each other with a grin.

Neal rolled his eyes. “It's not so much a matter of stealing as it is a matter of _returning.”_

 

~~~~

 

She and Peter decided that with the sudden reappearance of Neal Caffrey into their lives, they should bypass the Louvre for the day, and brought him back to their hotel room. El took younger Neal — and she really needed to come up with a way to keep the two Neals separate in her own head — and put him down for a nap.

When she came back out to the lounge area of the suite, Neal and Peter were sitting at the table, their heads close together.

“— take so long to find me?”

Peter shifted, guilty. “It took me a while before… well, I couldn’t go through your effects for a while. I didn’t find the key until last year. I didn’t know you were still alive.”

 _What?_ El ignored Neal’s adorable, wide-eyed look of surprise at Peter’s admission that he couldn’t handle looking through Neal’s effects. She had bigger fish to fry. “You _knew?_ You _knew_ he was alive and you didn’t tell me? Peter, how could you?”

He turned to her with a shocked expression, putting his hands up as if to ward off her wrath. “Now, hon —”

“Don’t you ‘now, hon’ _me,_ Peter Burke,” El said, her fury rising. “You should have told me!”

Neal tried to protest, “Elizabeth, no —”

Peter rose, interrupting Neal, and crossed the room to her. His warm hands curled around her upper arms, his brown eyes projecting sincerity as he met hers. “El, _think._ I couldn’t let anyone know Neal was still alive. There are still people out to get him if they found out.”

“You should have told me.” She raised her chin. She had no intention of backing down. This was too important. “You know I wouldn’t say anything to endanger Neal.”

Peter sighed, his shoulders slumping. “All right, El. You’re right, I should have told you.”

“You’re darn right you should have.” El raised her arm and thumped her fist into Peter’s chest. “Next time, don’t keep things this important from me.”

“All right, El.” Peter smiled fondly down at her, and took her hand. “Come on, Neal was going to tell us what he’s been up to.”

Peter led her over to the table, where Neal rose, watching her with a fond expression. Her husband held a chair for her, and then both men sat when she was settled.

“So,” she said, looking at them brightly, “Neal. Tell me what you’ve been up to, oh, _since you’ve been dead.”_

Neal went wide-eyed again, and she wondered how much of his surprise that someone cared about him was real, and how much was a deliberate attempt to fend off anger and disappointment.

“I’ve been painting fakes —” he must have noticed Peter’s automatic disapproval, as he hurried to add, “legitimate fakes. The buyers know they are getting fakes, and I’ve marked them so no one will think they’re forgeries. It’s actually…. surprisingly lucrative. There are people who like having ‘real’ art hanging on their walls, even if they’re not the original paintings.”

“Why were you really at the Louvre today? You said something earlier about stealing.”

 _“Returning_ , El. I have —” Neal's eyes cut toward Peter, _“acquired_ a sculpture that belongs in the Louvre.”

 _“Acquired,_ huh?”

“Hon, please.” She put a hand on Peter’s arm. “Let him finish.”

Peter heaved a put-upon sigh and waved for Neal to continue.

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Neal smiled at her before addressing Peter. “Yes, acquired. I need to return it to its rightful spot. In the Louvre.”

Peter blew out of breath. “Fine. So how can we help?”

Neal’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, Peter. I can't let you and El —”

“Yes, you can,” she interrupted. “And you will. _We_ will.”

“Seriously?” A grin spread slowly over Neal’s face. “This is going to be good.”

 

~~~~

 

Elizabeth listened to her men argue. Neal had been casing the museum that morning, trying to come up with a plan. So far, he hadn’t come up with anything, so now both he and Peter were tossing out ideas at a furious pace as they got more excited. She hid a smile. She hadn’t seen Peter looking so… _alive,_ in a long time. Since Neal’s ‘death,’ really.

The two finally settled on a basic plan. Peter would go in as a tourist to distract the gallery guard, and she would go in as an official of some kind, and distract the guards watching the monitors in the control room. Neal would be the one making the exchange, of course. He told them that he could contact someone who would give him something that would help with the locks and get ID for her role.

Now they just needed to find a way to be sure the baby was safe, and how to smuggle in the sculpture.

Young Neal had woken from his nap, and was now on the floor, ignoring the adults as he played with his toys. As she watched him, an idea began to form. El considered it, and let it develop into a plan.

“What if…” She said meditatively, startling Neal and Peter into silence, “Neal smuggles in the sculpture?”

She looked up to see both men staring back at her with baffled expressions.

“Hon? We already agreed that Neal shouldn’t —”

“No, Peter. I meant Neal Daniel. We could disguise the sculpture as one of his toys, and he could carry it into the museum.”

“Oh, no. No, Elizabeth. Peter would never stand for putting your son in danger and neither would I.”

But Peter was watching her with a strange expression. “Are you sure, hon? It could be dangerous.”

Neal’s head whipped around as he stared at Peter, stunned. “What? How can you —”

“I know you, Neal. You would never put our son in danger. He’ll be safe with you — safer than with some stranger we get to watch him while we do this.”

“Besides,” El couldn’t help chiming in, with a smile she knew was impish, “Mozzie would approve. Neal Daniel’s first museum heist.”

Neal’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly before he found his voice. “I don’t think that’s a milestone to be proud of, Elizabeth. Peter, tell her!”

“I learned a long time ago not to set myself against Elizabeth Burke when her mind is made up.”

El smirked at the glare Neal shot at Peter.

Their son picked up on the charged atmosphere and looked up at them with wide, blue eyes.

 

~~~~

 

Neal caved, as she knew he would, and called a mysterious friend to ask for help. The next morning the little family group trooped outside to walk along the Seine, waiting for his contact.

A rugged blond man in a well-fitted dress suit drifted close as they paused by one of the scenic overlooks, his ice blue eyes flickering over them.

El shivered. There wasn't an iota of warmth in those eyes.

“You Peterson?” The man asked, his eyes settling on Neal with laser intensity. He sounded British to El.

When Neal nodded, the man said, “Cue said you might need these.” He handed Neal a package wrapped neatly in brown paper.

With that, before Neal could respond, the man spun on his heel and walked away.

El spotted another blond man watching close by, his attention divided between them and the other man. His green eyes were as hard and cold as the first man's. Who were these people? How did Neal know them?

Neal was looking at the package with satisfaction when Peter leaned over. “Cue as in pool cue?”

Neal looked startled, but then smiled brightly. “Something like that.”

El knew from that response that it definitely _wasn't_ cue-as-in-pool-cue. So what was it? Queue? Q? She shook her head. It really didn't matter.

 

~~~~

 

They returned to their hotel room. So far, Peter was resisting El’s attempts to call it their Lair, but she thought Neal was on her side. They’d wear Peter down, sooner or later.

She sat on the couch, watching as Neal and Peter sat at the table, going through the package from the mysterious Cue. “Anything interesting in there, boys?”

“Hmmm,” Neal hummed, his attention on a letter he’d pulled from the box. Instructions, El assumed.

Peter turned to her, holding an understuffed plush bear that had been in the box. “Nothing too exciting yet, hon.”

She huffed. “Darn. I wanted a gun. I could be your moll.”

Neal looked over at her, startled, then he glanced at Peter. “What has she been reading?” Peter just shrugged at him.

“Watching.” El corrected. “Old movies with Mozzie. He’s quite the film critic, you know.”

Peter muttered something under his breath about Mozzie being something all right that El chose to ignore.

“Right,” Neal said, interrupting them. “El, here’s your ID. Your cover is Maud Ellis, an insurance and security expert. You’re going to show up at the Louvre for a surprise inspection of their security measures.”

El took the ID, reading it over. “Maud? Couldn’t your not-a-pool-cue-Cue pick a better name than that?”

“Oh, hon. Come on.” Peter couldn’t hide his mirth. “Maud is a perfectly good name.”

El narrowed her eyes at the love of her life. He was _laughing_ at her because of her cover name! “Now, you see here, Peter Burke —”

“Whoa! Hold on, you two.” Neal looked anxiously back and forth between them. “El, Maud is a lovely name. It’s the name of a warrior queen. I think it suits you very well.”

“Warrior queen, hmmm?” She let herself be mollified. “I guess that’s not too bad, then.”

Neal grinned at her. “I think it’s perfect for you, El.”

She was startled to find herself blushing. “Thank you, Neal,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Peter moved to the couch, sitting beside her. “I’m sorry, hon. Neal’s right — it does suit you.”

“Your darn tootin’ it does!”

That startled a bark of laughter out of the two men. Then Neal’s grin went sly as he took a necklace and what appeared to be a lighter out of the box. “I think you’ll both like this.”

 

~~~~

 

Two days later, El pulled the rental car into a parking lot a couple blocks away from the museum and exchanged a glance with Peter. “Well, this is it.”

“Yep. Are you sure you’re up for this, hon?”

“After two days of you and Neal going over everything repeatedly?” She smiled, warmed by Peter’s concern for her. “Yeah, I think I am.”

They got out of the car. Peter got the stroller out of the trunk while Neal climbed out of the back seat with Neal Daniel.

Peter set up the stroller, then helped Neal strap their son in.

El bent down to hand Neal Daniel the stuffed bear that held the figurine. She was still amused that it had been Peter who had carefully stitched the little animal closed. “Be careful with this, all right, Neal?”

Neal Daniel looked up at her and nodded solemnly. “I p’womise, Mama.”

El took a deep breath as Neal and Peter shook hands with a manly half-hug, as if they were embarrassed to show each other too much emotion. Then it was time. She watched her men go off with a pang of worry. Would the switch go as planned? Would they get caught? That would end her husband’s career. Working with Neal had nearly gotten Peter fired from the FBI before, but somehow, between the two — or three — of them, Peter had survived with his career intact.

She got back into the car and drove, stopping closer to the Louvre, and parked once more. She spotted Peter and Neal walking towards the museum. They had allowed their different, casual gaits to separate them naturally, just two tourists who happened to be walking near each other. Peter drew ahead of Neal, and without a look back at Neal or their son, disappeared into the Louvre.

Neal, pushing Neal Daniel in the stroller, walked slowly, pausing to point out things of interest to the toddler.

El bit her lip at the sight. Neal was so good with his namesake. She wished things hadn't gotten so far out of control when Neal faked his death. He should have been — was supposed to have been — an important part of their son’s life. She took a steadying breath as Neal pushed the stroller close to the museum. They’d be all right. She had to believe that.

Once she saw Neal go into the museum, she got out of the car, checking the wallet holding her ID and credentials. They still said ‘Maud Ellis’ — security expert, there to check on the museum’s security. She smiled in satisfaction and tucked the wallet back into her rear pocket. The car keys went into her front pocket, along with the not-really-a-lighter. With a deep breath, she headed towards the museum, absently reaching up to toy with the pendant of her necklace, making sure it was settled properly.

Neal had chosen her outfit with an eye toward distraction. Peter’s expression said that he hadn‘t liked how the outfit displayed her… assets, but he hadn’t said anything. She did look professional, but if she needed to be a bit more… warm, she wouldn’t have any trouble pulling off getting and holding someone’s interest, either.

Their final preparations had been making sure she knew how to use the two gadgets Cue had sent, and that she knew the jargon. Both Peter and Neal had drilled her on what to say and how to say it, until she was confident she could pass for a security expert. That was more than she could say for Cue’s gadgets. She knew which buttons to press to activate and deactivate them, but beyond that she had no idea how they worked. Neal had said simply said to trust that they would do what Cue had promised they would.

She shivered as she entered the museum. _Get a grip, El. It’s only nerves._ She looked up, at the underside of the huge glass pyramid, and gathered her control. They couldn’t afford for her to make any mistakes. When she was ready, she went to the security desk.

“Good morning,” she said to the guard waiting there, flipping open the wallet to show her the credentials. “I’m here to talk to the director and the head of security. Let them know I’m here.”

The guard’s brows rose as she inspected the ID. She looked up at El, faint lines at the corners of her blue eyes crinkling as she smiled. “If you’ll wait here a moment, ma’am, I’ll get them for you.” She turned away, light reflecting off her nametag, drawing El’s eye.

“Thank you, Lieutenant —?” El couldn’t make out the name etched in the metal, only the guard’s rank.

The lieutenant paused, twisting to look back at El. “Lieutenant Sylvie Toussaint, Madame.”

El nodded graciously. “Thank you, Lieutenant Toussaint.” She looked around the lobby once more while she waited for Toussaint to make the phone call. It was early, and the museum wasn’t too crowded — yet. In a few hours the place would be packed with tourists. If they timed this correctly, they would be finished before it got too crowded.

“Ah, Madame — no, surely it must be Mademoiselle — Ellis.”

She turned around, spotting an older gentleman walking towards her. He was the director, Cedric Moreau. The head of security, Thierry Devereaux, was speaking with Lieutenant Toussaint.

El strove for just the right mixture of authority and approachable as the director took her hand, bowing over it. She smiled. “Director Moreau, I’m Maud Ellis. Pleasure to meet you.” She crowed inwardly. The director seemed to be successfully charmed — or at least smitten, if the way his eyes dropped to her decolletage was any indication. It was a good thing Peter wasn’t around to see him.

Director Moreau dragged his eyes back up to meet hers. “Welcome to the Louvre, mademoiselle. We’ve been expecting you.”

She wasn’t able to hide her surprise. That hadn’t been in their plan. Had Neal’s friend changed things without telling them?

“Mademoiselle? Is everything all right?” Director Moreau asked, concerned.

Shoving her curiosity away to deal with later, she covered, “You weren’t supposed to be informed. This was to be a surprise inspection of your security procedures. I ought to leave, and send a different agent another time.” El held her breath. If she read him correctly, he’d beg her to stay. And _that_ meant that he wouldn’t be looking for suspicious behavior from her — he’d be encouraging her to stay.

She held her breath. Would they call her bluff?

“Oh, no, please, I’m sure it will be fine. No need to contact someone else, surely?” The director almost fell over himself trying to reassure her.

“Director? Is there a problem?” The head of security had finished with the Lieutenant and turned to them. “Madame Ellis, I’m Colonel Devereaux. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” El smiled at him, and then turned her attention back to the director. “You might be right, Director Moreau. Everything will be fine. Shall we begin with a tour of the museum? Then we can finish up with your monitor room.”

Moreau seemed pleased that she let herself be convinced to stay. “This way, please, Mademoiselle.”

Colonel Devereaux glanced at Moreau, as if startled to hear him call her ‘mademoiselle,’ but he covered with a smile and followed the director’s lead.

As the two men escorted her through to the main lobby, El spotted her men loitering, carefully staying on opposite sides of the room. She caught Peter’s eye first, long enough to subtly dip her chin, and see him respond with a slight nod of his own before he turned to the next work of art. She sought out Neal next. When she caught his eye, he gave her a barely there wink, and then bent to say something to Neal Daniel. A part of her wanted to run to them, and get her son out of there, even though this whole thing had been her idea. She trusted Neal, and she trusted Peter. Neither would let anything happen to Neal Daniel.

El turned her attention back to the director and the head of security, nodding seriously at the descriptions of the security setup in the museum, and in the lobby in particular. She toyed with her pendant, watching the way Moreau’s eyes followed the motion. She would need to touch it frequently, so that Moreau would dismiss it as unimportant.

“We have a central monitoring station for each floor,” Devereaux continued, describing the museum’s security set up.

 _Pay attention,_ El! She told herself sternly. This was one of the points where Neal had drilled her on. She nodded to Deveraux. “Why don’t you have a single monitoring station for the entire museum?”

Devereaux smiled, as if pleased to show off. But before he could say anything further, Moreau shot him a little glare and sidled closer to El, and took over the explanation. “It is quicker to get someone on scene that way. Rather than one room, that might be convenient for part of the museum, but not for the rest, we have several, and they are convenient for the floor upon which they are located.”

 _Interesting._ El turned her warm smile up a notch. Devereaux wasn’t interested in her, but Moreau was — and it seemed as though _he_ thought Devereaux was competition. “I see. That sounds sensible.”

 

~~~~

 

As El walked through the museum with Moreau and Devereaux, she would spot one or the other of her men. They were keeping to roughly the same route that she was taking on the inspection tour. The two of them hadn’t discussed _their_ potential routes through the museum with her. Were they keeping tabs on her? She wasn’t sure if she should be pleased or annoyed at their protectiveness.

She dragged her attention away from thoughts of Peter and Neal, to concentrate on her role. She made sure to ask technical questions, interspersed with some light flirting, and tried to pay close attention to the answers. Soon she realized that Moreau was starting to pay _her_ a little too much attention. Should she tone down the flirting a bit and focus on Devereaux? If she could generate some ill feeling between the two, it would add another layer of distraction. She pitched her voice lower, adding a sultry tone, on her next question. “Colonel Devereaux? Perhaps you could tell me the reaction times of your recent drills?”

Devereaux ignored the implied interest in her voice as he answered her question, but Moreau didn’t. The museum director glared at his head of security as Colonel Deveraux dutifully recited numbers, striving to show her that his security teams were up to the task of securing the museum.

El had requested that her guides take her on a random tour of the museum rather than using a planned route. Each time the small group came to a junction, she would guide the conversation, ensuring that it was the director or the head of security who chose the direction she wanted to go. She was following the sequence that Neal had decided on. He had determined the way that would get them to the monitoring station they were interested in before the museum got too crowded, and hopefully without drawing suspicion from the museum director and head of security.

She was nervous the first time they stepped into a monitoring station. Moreau and Deveraux were both paying more attention to her than she’d like. They didn’t seem suspicious of her though — more that they were concerned that she had a good opinion of their security setup. She spent at least ten minutes talking to the guards and asking questions as she inspected the monitors and memorized the layout of the room. This one should be set up the same as the one that was critical to their plan. She wanted to be prepared when they got there.

When they left that monitoring station, Moreau took her arm, guiding her towards a gallery full of Renaissance art. “Mademoiselle, I hope that you will enjoy these paintings as much as I. Their beauty is almost a match for yours.”

El tried not to roll her eyes at the blatant flirting. Apparently her attempt to tone down the flirting hadn’t worked. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Director Moreau. I’m more interested in the security for the paintings than their content.”

Moreau looked downcast for a moment but then rallied. “But of course, your calling is most important. Let’s move on.”

Colonel Devereaux didn’t bother hiding his eye roll. “The security in this wing…”

She let his words wash over her as they walked.

 

~~~~

 

By the time the little group passed through the second monitoring station, El was confident she’d be able to handle the third. The second was a match for the first, and she had no reason to believe the third would be any different from the first two.

They went through another wing, this one dominated by sculptures, before finally arriving at the third monitoring station. El mentally braced herself. It was the one where she’d need to be on her toes as she played her part to to the hilt. Shortly after they entered, the door opened again. El swore silently. She wasn’t quite in position yet, and she didn’t want any more potential witnesses than were already present.

To her surprise, it was the guard from the security desk in the lobby, Lieutenant Toussaint, who entered the room. The Lieutenant’s eyes rested on her for a minute, and El could swear she saw a barely there wink before Toussaint went to Moreau and Devereaux. _Well, all right then._ It might be odd, but it was definitely a distraction that she could take advantage of. While the Lieutenant occupied Moreau’s and Devereaux’s attention, El gave her necklace a discreet tap. That was supposed to send a signal to the watches that each of her men wore, telling them it was time to move into position.

Once in the monitoring room, she followed the pattern she had established in the other rooms. She drifted toward the monitors, blocking them from view as she asked her questions. This time, though, she palmed the device in her pocket and placed it against the side of the control panel before moving away, making sure all eyes on the room were on her. She breathed a sigh of relief. No one seemed to notice. Still, she had reservations. How could something the size of a metal lighter do what they needed it to do? It was so small, and getting away with their switch hinged on it working correctly. She gave her head a slight shake. All that mattered now was that it did what it was supposed to. She didn’t need to understand it.

She watched the screen out of the corner of her eye. Peter walked up to a guard, museum map unfolded and flapping, and began speaking in obvious agitation, waving the map around. Neal was visible approaching the display they were interested in. She tapped her pendant again.

After he reached the display, Neal crouched, saying something to the toddler in the stroller and waving a hand at the figures in the display. El counted the seconds. At the two minute mark, she tapped the pendant twice. On the monitor, the scene flickered momentarily, showing Peter talking to the guard and Neal in front of the stroller.

Once two more minutes passed, the screen flickered once more. Peter was still talking to a clearly exasperated guard, and Neal was straightening up from his crouch. She tapped the pendant three times.

Neal pushed the stroller to the next display, and Peter grinned and caught the guard’s hand, pumping his arm enthusiastically. El asked another question and drifted back to the panel to palm the device once more and slip it into her pocket.

None of them could leave yet. They would need to keep up their charades in order to divert any suspicion from falling on them. That meant that Peter and Neal would keep up their tourist acts, and she needed to feign interest in security for a while longer.

 

~~~~

 

After she bade farewell to Devereaux and Moreau, thanking them for the tour of the museum’s security — and fended off an invitation to dinner from Moreau — El returned to her car and drove to their rendezvous point.

When she arrived, El parked and got out of the car. As she walked through the park, she fought a broad smile that tugged at her lips. They’d done it! A delighted laugh bubbled up as she sat on a park bench. She got her laughter under control and people watched until Peter and Neal showed up. She held herself still when she caught sight of her two men. She wanted to run to them, to see how they were, but that would attract attention. Instead, she waited until they came closer, then she got up to hug them both. After El let them go, she picked up her son for a cuddle, until the toddler struggled, demanding to be put down.

“Hello.”

Surprised at the unexpected voice, El turned around, along with Peter and Neal.

The second large blond man from a few days before stood there, a pleasant expression on his face that utterly failed to reach the cold, green eyes that flicked between the three of them. “You have something for me?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Neal stepped forward, moving in front of her, Neal Daniel, and Peter. The stranger’s green eyes snapped to Neal and then dismissed him to focus on her. A hint of interest flared in his green eyes before Peter slid in front of her to stand shoulder to shoulder with Neal.

El rolled her eyes in exasperation, and pulled the device out of her pocket. “Stop it, all of you. You’re attracting attention. Isn’t that what we wanted to avoid?” She stepped between her two men, and held her hand out to the blond for him to shake it, the device once more concealed from casual view in the palm of her hand.

The man took her hand in both of his and bowed over it. She felt her cheeks heat as he said, “You are as practical as you are beautiful, my dear. Your husband is a lucky man.” When he released her hand, the device was gone.

Peter and Neal were still regarding the man with suspicion. He smirked, a raised brow mocking them.

“H’lo.” All four adults looked down at the soft voice. Neal Daniel was blinking up at the man, one hand held out to shake. As Peter and Neal bristled once more, El reached out to her son and stopped short as she realized the man was looking at him with eyes widening in alarm. She finished her motion, and drew her son close.

“It was… interesting, meeting you. But I think we’re all tired, and will be heading back to our hotel. Thank you for… everything, but I believe it’s time for you to get back to what you were doing?”

Those green eyes snapped to hers, assessing. He nodded to her in a sign of respect. “You’re quite right. I hope the remainder of your stay in Paris is enjoyable.” His gaze swept across Peter and Neal, and then he slipped away to vanish into a nearby building. El was sure that building wasn’t his real destination. He would no doubt find another exit once he was out of their sight.

“Are you all right, El?” Peter’s anxious question startled her. Why wouldn’t she be all right? She’d only spoken with the strange man.

Neal was frantically running his gaze over her, as if contact with the stranger had caused her to suddenly acquire an injury.

“Relax. I’m fine, our son is fine, you’re fine — let’s go. I may not actually be tired, but I do think it’s time to call it a day.”

Peter and Neal exchanged a glance she couldn’t read, but acquiesced in the end, and they went back to the car. El sat in the back, cuddling her son, while Peter drove back to the hotel with Neal navigating. Would she ever find out who those two mysterious men were, or what cue meant? Her hand reached up to toy with the pendant again, and she froze. She’d forgotten to give it back to the blond man. _Oh dear._ She shook her head with a smile. It really didn’t matter. If Cue wanted it back, she was sure he’d contact Neal. In the meantime, the three of them had had quite an interesting little adventure, and they were all safe.

 

~~~~

 

They were finally back in their suite after a long evening. Neal poured them each a glass of wine before they settled down, enjoying each other’s company too much to let the night come to an end. She and Peter wound up on the sofa, while Neal sat on the floor, leaning his back against her legs. El put her wine glass on the side table and leaned into Peter, snuggling under his arm, and let her free hand drift down to toy with Neal’s hair. Her two men had surprised her with a dinner date, to celebrate their successful heist. She giggled.

“What is it, hon?” Peter’s voice rumbled through his chest under her ear.

“I can’t believe that everything went so smoothly today. I’m still half expecting the police to knock on our door any minute.”

“We were too good,” Neal said, his voice utterly relaxed. He shifted slightly, pressing his head into her caressing fingers. “Besides, we replaced a fake with the original. They can’t prove anything.”

“Are you even awake, Neal?” El tugged lightly at a lock of his hair. A sleepy hum was his only response. She smiled, shaking her head. Sleepy Neal Caffrey was adorable, and giving her all sorts of ideas. Neal Daniel would be fine with the babysitter for a few more hours, and in the morning, Neal would be walking out of their lives again — for a little while at least. She’d make darn sure that Neal Caffrey would be walking back into their lives sooner or later, no matter what name he was going by. She squeezed Peter’s hand. “Hon? While we’re here, would you mind if we tried for a sister or brother for Neal Daniel?”

Peter’s hand tightened around hers as he glanced down at Neal, and then smiled at her softly. “You know, hon? I think that's an excellent idea.”

El beamed back at him, happy they were always on the same wavelength. Maybe this time the baby would have Neal's eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jaimistoryteller for encouragement and brainstorming!
> 
> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication. Feel free to stop in to say hi - you can find me on Tumblr at leavesdancing.tumblr.com.


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